


Moonlight

by M_nancywheeler



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Infidelity, Secret Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_nancywheeler/pseuds/M_nancywheeler
Summary: In order to secure a Stark and Baratheon alliance, Robb Stark agreed to bend the knee to King Stannis. This was done on two conditions, however. First, Robb entered into a betrothal with Stannis' daughter, Shireen, and they were to marry she was of age. The second condition was Arya would also marry Edric Baratheon, the newly legitimized son of Robert Baratheon, once they were also grown. Yet, what happens when Arya arrives at Storm's End with her bastard sworn sword, Ser Gendry, in tow?





	1. Chapter 1

Moonlight

Chapter 1: Never Again

Earlier in the night, Arya's boots trampled over the snows that were thawing out over the white wintry grounds of Winterfell. Though the season was shorter than expected, there was not a single soul that could find cause for complaint in the sudden changing of the seasons. Winter was brutal in the north when the days were dark, cold, and gloomy. Soon there would be no darkness as the days grew ever longer with each passing sun and moon. In anticipation for spring, the once quiet Winter Town bustled, children played along the melted snow and winter roses, marriages were being planned around fires, and maidens and lads fell into each other's arms. The time for joy was close so the common folk were eager to look ahead for better days. Like its surrounding people, the castle of Winterfell was making leaps towards the future by implementing the plans dreamt of in the past when spring seemed so far away.

Deep in Winterfell's godswood, Arya and Gendry were nestled in a hiding place amidst the trees and brush. Protected by the moonlight and the wood's natural elements, this was their hiding place, a place alone for them alone for the past two years. Yet, the pair only dared to come late at night when they were absolutely certain all of Winterfell was asleep. Both Arya and Gendry knew that they could never be caught in this hiding spot or else be subject to separation, or worse. But things were not always so. When they were children, it was possible for them to be alone without warranting suspicion and murmurs. However, those days were long gone once they were both grown.

Lady Catelyn Stark did not think it was appropriate for Arya to be alone with the smith and household knight once Arya became a maiden. The lady made that clear one evening once Arya arrived at the castle with a dress skirt full of mud on account of some wrestling with Gendry about the stables.

"Ladies," her mother told her in a quiet, disapproving voice as she handed Arya a night gown, "do not wrestle with young men."

When Arya protested, her mother silenced her.

"I know he is your friend and you care for him deeply as any girl cares for her friends. I also had young men as friends, Arya." Arya rolled her eyes, but her mother carried on in defiance. "I am sure you do not believe that is true, but I would not lie to you. The words I am saying now are truths, though they are painful to hear. Life is unfair. You felt that keenly with your father and Bran, I know, for I felt the same. We all want the world to be the way we dream, but we do not live in dreams. We only live in the often unfair ways of life. I know it is not a happy truth that the innocent friendships of boys and girls cannot continue in the same fashion between men and women. But that is the way of things, sweetling. Gendry is a knight, he's a serious boy, and I know he would not want to soil your reputation by involving you in the gossip of being in a sorted affair with a baseborn bastard, knight or not. Neither of you are children any longer. Friends you may be, but it is not appropriate to fight with young men. Nor to be alone with them. I won't hear any more from you on this, or I will have to take this matter to your brother."

The memory still stung like a swipe from Needle whenever Arya allowed her conscious to question her judgment and the relationship she developed with Gendry. Whenever she considered the weight of her actions. No, she knew it was not right to sneak around with Gendry, but that's only because of stupid rules. Stupid rules she never agreed to in way. She never agreed to be a highborn lady who had to keep constant vigilance over her reputation lest she disgrace her family. She also never agreed to this hateful betrothal made when she was all of ten-years-old. Arya knew there was no escaping the fate her family store for her. That did not stop it from making her feel ill. If anything, the knowledge made her prospects feel worse.

When Arya returned to Riverrun with Gendry all those years ago, she was eagerly embraced by her mother and brother. The overwhelming joy of that reunion still made her whole heart flutter with warmth and happiness even as a woman grown of nineteen. In that moment, she missed them so and promised the gods she would do anything to make them happy. But that vow was made right before they informed her of the future she was to have, which at that moment, seemed so far away to a child. In an alliance with Stannis Baratheon, Robb gave up his claim to an independent north. The price for this Stark and Baratheon alliance meant Robb Stark agreed to bend the knee to King Stannis. This was done on two conditions, however. First, Robb entered into a betrothal with Stannis' daughter, Shireen, and they were to marry she was of age. The second condition was Arya would also marry Edric Baratheon, the newly legitimized son of Robert Baratheon, once Arya and Edric were also grown. When Arya was a little girl, she thought she would enjoy being a woman grown. She wanted to be anything but a child with no power to make her own decisions. Yet, like so many of the unexpected cruelties Arya was faced with in life, the event of her womanhood brought upon a reckoning.

Gendry knew in their meeting in the hiding spot that night, of all nights, was a terrible idea. Arya insisted that they have one last night among the forest she loved, that he grew to love, before they set off in the morning. To him, the notion seemed foolish and daring given the chances of being caught. Not to mention, they were meant to be up at dawn with the rest of the retinue taking The Starks down south. But, wisdom did not prevail when it came to Arya. Never did, really. Truth was, he wanted Arya so bad in ways that his body and mind willed so any attempt to resist felt impossible.

Gendry knew that if he had any wits, he would tell her that this meeting was unwise. He would pull right away from her as told her what he thought. Then he would go right back to his quarters instead of being crouched around branches and snow. He would also never press his lips to hers, or pull her small body, covered in layers of fur and heavy cloak, closer as he did when Arya leaned into him for a kiss. He would also never let her whisper things in his ears that made his whole body go aflame despite all the cold earth beneath them. Those were the wise things to do, Gendry knew. Not that he had been anything but a bloody idiot around Arya in the past year.

As he pressed his lips to Arya's knuckles, she sighed soft and sweet. That sound made his blood rush all over his body from his toes to the backs of his eyelids. She was sitting across from him and he wanted nothing more to pull her even deeper into his form, and smother himself in her neck and breathe in her being.

"Do you think we'll be able to have more time in Storm's End? We'll be away from Winterfell."  
Arya asked in a gentle whisper like she knew this was a conversation they both avoided for some time. Arya's voice was not oft sweet or soft as it was in that moment.

Gendry's heart fell at the question because he knew his answer would not be a pleasant one. He took his lips off her knuckles but kept her calloused but small hand in his. Gendry felt the usual mix of dread and anger he felt whenever he let his mind consider their future in Storm's End.

The morning would bring about their impending journey south so that Arya and her brother, Lord Robb, could honor the marriage alliance made all those years ago when Arya was a child. Back then, the time for the marriages seemed like the natural course of a time that would come slowly. Gendry recalled that he felt something curious, lingering jealousy, when the pact was discovered, but it was only a boy's jealousy. He had no right to that small sting of jealousy so he buried it down deep until he time came for Arya to come into those vows. By that time, Arya was no longer a child but a woman grown. She was also his, well, he wasn't sure if Arya was his lover or not. They kissed and fondled each other over their clothes, but they had not made love or seen each other naked. Arya liked to push for more, certainly, but that would be the end of him, he knew. He would be gelded or beheaded if he was caught with her in a bad way. He knew their current situation was dangerous, but the risk did little to mitigate the depth of his love for Arya. Gendry certainly did not anticipate he would be in love with Arya years prior, but here he was in a bloody half frozen hiding spot with her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her stupid so they could forget the morning before them.

They both knew it was coming but neither would dare explore the matter much with one another in their year of, well, Gendry did not know what to call the relationship they entered unwittingly. Was she in love as well? He wanted to believe so, but would that last once she became a married woman? Gendry did know that either like so many things he did not know. The only thing he knew was that he did not want to be parted from her. Be it curse or blessing, Lord Robb spared them some immediate agony when he named Ser Gendry as an honorary member of Arya's guard down south. This action was natural given Ser Gendry had been been named Lady Arya's sworn shield when they arrived at Riverrun years ago. 

Gendry frowned as he pondered Arya's question on Storm's End. "No. It'll be even worse."

He could see Arya didn't like his answer. "How so? We'll be away from my mother and brother. There'll be no one to stop us from seeing each other when we like."

He snorted. "Except your lord husband. I'm certain he'll like his lady wife spendin' time with some baseborn bastard sworn sword. He'll like it enough to chop my head off, I wager."

Gendry made out how Arya's eyes narrowed in the darkness. "You'll be my sworn sword. Where else would you be but at my side?"

His jaw tensed, but he could not hold back. The conversation roused an unexpected fury in him. "At a distance most like. Don't play stupid, Arya. This is goin' to be the last o' our kisses and you know it."

Gendry knew his words came out bitter but it was truth. She had to admit it. He wanted her to admit the truth of their future. Lying to each other would only make things worse when they arrived at Storm's End and Lord Edric banished Gendry to the smithy where he would be of better use, no doubt.

But Arya would not echo his sentiments. Rather, she yanked her hand away from him. "You just have to ruin everything, don't you? If you want to be stupid, fine, but I'm not going to listen to any more of your nonsense. I'm going back to the castle. Stay here if you want for the night. Tomorrow morning, we're going to Storm's End. I don't want it any more than you do but that's all they've let us have. I just thought you'd want to make the most of it."

Gendry could not find the words to stay as she left their hiding spot. A place they'd never find again.


	2. Storm's End. (Alternatively: Meet the Baratheons)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I love feedback. Makes me feel all warm n fuzzy if it's kind. If it's constructive, well I feel determined to consider what's said and how I might improve in future work.

Chapter 2: Storm's End

The journey to Storm's End felt far longer than Arya imagined it would be before their party left Winterfell. Time only seemed to creep along at a crawl as Arya failed to escape the relentless dread that she felt at the prospects of what was to come once the journey ended. She had an idea of what to anticipate from her marriage. Yet, this anticipation did her no good as she could only imagine the most terrible limitations and horrors of being as strange lord's lady wife. She would have to share his bed, birth his sons, and perform all the pleasantries anticipated of a Southron lady. Worst of all, she would be expected to practice obedience to her lord husband. That notion was the most troubling of all because she could not see any possible way in which she could meet that particular expectation.

All these worrisome fears of failing in her lady duties suddenly flooded Arya’s mind. For half a heart beat, she even felt herself shudder at the imagining of her awful voice cracking a note as she was made to sing for an audience by the piano, but her horror at the thought was interrupted by her lady mother.

Since departing from Winterfell, Arya shared her carriage with her mother. Catelyn told Arya that it was not only proper, but it would also be a time for them to share before Arya started her new life in Storm's End. Yet, the journey only proved to be a trial as the pair conflicted about just about everything. Arya felt that her mother spoke to her like a child, but Catelyn insisted that she had important knowledge to part with her younger daughter. After all, she was not able to do the same with Sansa, who married off to the Lannisters when she was held hostage. As they neared the castle, Catelyn took who took it upon herself to inform Arya of the things she should expect with her own wisdom and experience.

"I suppose there is nothing I can tell you that you have not seen or been told of in passing," Catelyn said as she tended to the maiden's cloak that Arya was meant to wear on the day of her wedding.

Arya attention went from looking at her mother's deft hands fix some loose threads on the cloak's direwolf to fixing her stare outside the carriage window next to her. The talk of a marriage bed made Arya want for nothing nothing more than to fling herself out of the carriage. She then breathed a heavy sigh and looked back at her mother. "No, I don't think so. I've told you before that my time after Father's death was full of illuminating and shocking life lessons."

Catelyn paused her sewing. Her blue eyes suddenly looked quite dark and sad as they were want to do for the past several years. It pained Arya to see that, but the truth was the truth. She would not hide from the truth even to make her mother's sleep any easier for attempting to repress the truth certainly did little to alleviate the pain of her own dreams.

Catelyn's mouth pursed for a bit before she resumed her questions. "You learned these lessons in Harrenhal and among the Brotherhood? But you were not soiled. I clearly remember that you told me so on the day you came into your first moon blood."

The tense fearful concern tearing through her mother's usually composed voice was enough to make Arya sick though she was not sure why. Her eyes went back to the world outside of her carriage. She tried to focus on the rabbit scampering away from the retinue back into the forest, but it escaped her as the carriage moved forward and the rabbit retreated further into the darkness.

"I am a maiden if that's what you want to know. Despite my dear maidenhood, I do know what men and women do abed because my eyes were not shielded even if what's between my legs was. Is that what my lord husband will want?"

A deep frown curved the contours of Catelyn's mouth, but she still managed to answer her daughter's sarcasm without any break in coolness.

"You are a brilliant girl, Arya. So I am quite certain you know very well that a marriage must be consummated. After all, you are years older than I was when I was wed to your lord father. By then, I knew my duty. Still, I do not think those terrible times you endured before you came back to us should inform your notions of what a marriage bed means. Indeed, I read in letters from Andrew Estermont, Storm's End castellan, exchanged between us as we made arrangements for your wedding, that Lord Edric is very handsome and amiable. He even enjoys riding horses like yourself."

Catelyn paused as if she anticipated Arya would react. When she did not, Catelyn continued, "I met his Uncle Renly during the war, and I've heard only positive comparisons of Edric to his late uncle. Renly Baratheon was not a mature man, not a king as he desired to be, but he was not cruel. From the looks of it, he was actually quite gallant, and he had much love for his friends and loyal men. He will respect you, I am certain. Furthermore, if he is anything like his other uncle, King Stannis, he will honor you as a lady wife. There should be no reason for you to fear Lord Edric as a husband."

Arya heard her mother's words. She understood them. There was sound reason in what she was trying to get across. Perhaps Edric was a fine young man. What more could a highborn lady ask for in a husband? Plenty of young ladies got saddled with old or cruel men. Some would say she was lucky, even. Yet, was there ever luck in a world where her own choice was never an option? Arya did not want this Storm Lord. Instead, she wanted her knight, Gendry. But she was no ordinary lady. She never was. Nothing about present situation could console her or bring her comfort for the fate she was being forced to accept.

With a great sigh, Arya looked at her mother directly in the eyes. "I don't fear a husband. I don't fear any man. If you want to know the truth, I haven't feared much of anything since I was a little girl."  
\----  
When the Starks arrived at Storm's End, Arya was at first first taken by the formidable nature of the castle and its surroundings. Of course, this was not her first time in the presence of a great castle. She was a Stark. Her own home, Winterfell, was solemn and strong, but this castle was another matter altogether. Storm's End was grander than King's Landing, stronger than Harrenhal might have ever been before the dragon's wrath, and it far more imposing than the noble Riverrun. The castle of Storm's End was the stuff of legends. Arya learned the land's lore as a child from the tales told to her by Old Nan.

As Arya's mind drifted from those stories of storm queens and storm kings in order to take in the sight of her new home, the castle's enormous walls stared down at her with its hard, dark structure. At the same time, Arya could feel the relentless winds in the air nearly topple her over in their tenacity. Though winter had clearly passed the Stormlands, the weather was still in the midst of lingering early spring storms. Would this strange, fierce castle ever welcome her as one of its own? Arya Stark was a wolf, so she willed herself to be brave, but she did walk to the new with a deep reservation.

If her family shared similar reservations, they did not show it. Rather, the Starks proudly flew their banners in the air as they approached the oncoming host leaving the castle's entrance. Arya looked to her side only to see her mother standing firm and tall as she awaited the Baratheons. She looked very fine and elegant in her navy cloak and gown while her long auburn hair was braided in a silver coil. Like their lady mother, Robb stood straight and stoic. Arya took it upon herself to fix her face in an austere stare as well. She also made sure to straighten out her own grey cloak. Arya was not the unrestrained girl she was as a child, but she was still never quite confident in her ability to be the graceful lady that was expected. These expectations were constant and infuriating, but there was no ridding herself of them in the world of nobility. Life on the road was so different for Arya. There she could be free of certain pressures even if the world was horrifying and dangerous in a war. She would never go back. That was certain. However, that did not make the transition into a life of ladyship easier to endure and practice. But, Arya Stark was a Stark, and she made certain promises to her mother when she returned. Whether she liked it or not, this was her family and she would at least to try and honor the oaths done in the name of peace. Even the ones made without her consent.

The Starks and their party stopped as soon as they came right up to the Baratheon host. In front, Arya could see a man she assumed to be King Stannis atop a horse sporting the royal Baratheon banners of a crowned stag inside of a flaming heart. King Stannis was a tall, thin, and bald but fierce looking man. When he stepped down from his steed, Arya took the moment to notice the other members of his host that followed his lead. Three women and two men came forth. The first woman was a beautiful red haired woman dressed in a long red gown. Arya noticed a red ruby shining from her neck. Whispers of the king's red witch, Melisandre of Asshai, reached Winterfell over the years, but Arya never saw the woman until this moment. She took her place to the left of the king. On the other side of the witch, an older dark haired woman in a crown stood. She looked rather imperious so Arya assumed she must be Queen Selyse. Yet, to the king's right stood a young woman around Arya's age. The young woman was tall, dressed in a simple but elegant yellow and red gown, and a crown rested on her black hair. She was not pretty, exactly, but her face was graced with high refined cheekbones and a straight perfect nose along with piercing blue eyes like her father. Despite those pleasing features, she was marked with the distinct marks of grey scale on her face and on the parts of her neck not obscured by the high neck of her gown. This young women had to be Princess Shireen for her greyscale marks were almost as well known in the seven kingdoms as the king's worship to the lord of light. If she was ashamed of her looks, however, that was not evident in her expression. The Princess Shireen looked right at the Starks without the slightest hint of intimidation.

And yet, Arya's observations ultimately focused more on the young man to the princess's other side. Arya had to take a second glance at the young man, and then one look behind her to make sure Gendry was still in him customary place among the Stark's retinue. When Arya saw Gendry was still in place, their eyes locked only moment enough not to warrant any suspicious, and she turned back. Her gaze returned back to the young man at the princess’s side, a young man who also looked very much like Gendry as well. The young man was tall, broad-shouldered, and black of hair slicked back, with blue eyes. Though quite similar in appearance, he was not Gendry. For one, the young man was dressed in very splendid black leather, a lord's garb, and his face was clean shaven to showcase his longer jaw. In contrast, Gendry had a beard and his jaw was far more square. Gendry also did not have the same large ears that were evident on this young man. For a moment, Arya wondered who this man could be until she saw the flaming stag sigils embroidered on the sides of the collar of his doublet. Of course, this young man had to Lord Edric Baratheon since he was King Stannis' last male relative. Arya's stomach sank at the very sight of him when she realized the young man she observed was her husband-to-be. Perhaps he was as amiable and light-hearted as the bright white, straight grin on his face suggested, but that did not make Arya want this stranger as a husband anymore than when he was just a faceless stranger in her mind's eye. Instead, his startling and unexpected resemblance to Gendry only made things stranger than she anticipated.

The first man to speak in this host was the older lord next to Lord Edric. He wore the hand's pin on the chest of his doublet.

"Tidin's, Lord Stark," the man said as he walked over to the Stark's host. His accent sounded like Gendry's own accent to Aryas ears.

Her eyes followed her brother as he stepped forward to greet the man.

"It's been many years, Lord Davos. Would you do me the pleasure of leading me to his majesty, King Stannis, and to the Princess Shireen as well?"  
  
Lord Davos nodded his head. "With honor, m'lord."

At that moment, Arya felt her mother's arm lock into hers, moving the both of them forward to follow Robb and Lord Davos.

Robb bowed slightly to the king. Arya and Catelyn followed his lead.

"Your Grace. We are honored to be at Storm's End, at least," Catelyn said for her son.

The king did not look charades. His face seemed to be in a fixed scowl. "The honor is shared with House Baratheon. The union between our houses has been long in the making. My brother, the late King Robert, intended to marry your daughter, Sansa, with Cersei's bastard when he was believed to be a true Baratheon. That was before Tywin Lannister got the imp to marry her first. However, Ned Stark had more children and Cersei's cursed bastards were not the true heirs for House Baratheon. Aye, step forward Lord Robb."

Robb stepped even closer to the king until they were only inches apart. Then, the king put his hand forth in invitation. With a natural understanding, Robb took the king's hand into his own and he bowed once more before he picked his head up and looked King Stannis directly in they eyes.

"Lord Robb, you will be as good as my own son once you are married to my daughter, Princess Shireen. One day she will be on the Iron Throne as the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You understand that now as you did that day we made a pact before Blackwater?"

Robb shook his head. "I could never forget. It will be the honor of my life to take Princess Shireen as my wife and queen so that I may be her husband and consort."

Arya saw her brother's eyes drift towards the princess who put on a shy before she stepped forth and curtsied before Robb.

Though her act was gentle and sweet, her voice was deep and firm like her father's. "I am glad to finally meet you, Lord Stark. I was told the Young Wolf was very gallant as a girl. Now I see those tales were not fabrications, but entirely true if my short impression of you is not misleading."

With that, Robb took Shireen's hand into his own. He then bent his head down forward and placed a chaste kiss on the pale white hand. "I am pleased to meet you as well, Princess."

It was clear from the King's party that Princess Shireen and Robb's meeting was well received. Even the corners of King Stannis' mouth twitched for a half a heartbeat. The only exception to this general feeling of warmth was Lord Edric. The grin he spotted with ease earlier appeared to vanish off his face. For a moment, he was the spitting image of the king. Perhaps Lord Edric was not the wholly amiable young lord that was portrayed to Arya by her lady mother.

The Princess' cheeks flushed a rosy pink. She gulped before she straightened herself taller. Her voice was as composed as ever when she spoke once more. "I think my cousin, Lord Edric, would like to meet his betrothed." Her blue eyes locked with Arya's.

Robb nodded his head, When he turned to look at her, Arya knew her duty. She walked towards Lord Edric and gave a curtsy. When she rose and met his eyes, she saw an odd glint in them. "My lord. I've heard much of you."

The lord's grin came back. "And I've heard much of you, Lady Arya. Not so fierce as I heard, I admit. I almost expected to see a direwolf in a gown."

The Queen Selyse whispered a harsh "Edric!" However, Arya gave the queen no mind and grinned back at Lord Edric. "Don't believe every rumor you hear, my lord."  
\----  
For a lad born in Flea Bottom, Gendry lived in a fair share of castles. As Arya's sworn sword, Storm's End was to be his new home until he died. He accepted long ago that where Arya's home was, that was also his home. However, he did not realize there would be a feeling that felt something akin to getting a sword in his gut when he realized that her husband's home also had to be his home. Not only that, but he would be under that husband's command. The thought was never more nauseating to Gendry than when he was sitting under that lord's roof in the dining hall.

Gendry tried not to stare at Arya as she sat upon the great dais with the king and other nobles. She looked very fine to Gendry so he could not help but look at her. Gendry hoped that none would notice his obvious want, but the only way he could figure to hide it was to eat and drink. The ale served was rather heavy so it only took a handful to get him feeling as if he was in his cups. He tried to shake the feeling off by eating some of the food on his plate, but seeing Arya laugh at the words Lord Baratheon whispered in Arya's ear made Gendry lose his appetite.

Gendry was only beginning to come back to his senses when he finally heard the hand of the king stand and give a toast to "To Lady Arya and Lord Edric, the future lady and lord of Storm's End!"  
Though Gendry stood with the rest of the hall with raised cup in hand, Gendry silently cursed the union to himself. The marriage would not be happening if he had any say in it. Not that anyone would ever dream of consulting the bastard knight.

Gendry did not dare to look at Arya's face before he left the hall. Instead, he walked straight out after the hall went about their celebration when King Stannis and Queen Selyse left the hall, leaving the others to enjoy the welcoming feast for the remainder of the night.

Before the feast commenced, House Stark's party was led to their lodgings for the stay. As Lady Arya's sworn sword, Gendry was led to a fair set of chambers set aside for the castle's household knights. He was even given a key. When he fumbled in his doublet for his key, he head a voice behind him.

"Check your boots."

Gendry turned around. "Arya."

She stood before him, looking rather pretty in her fine new cloak and gown. "I told the others I needed some fresh air. The feast was becoming quite rowdy."

He snorted. "Arya Stark could never stand for no impropriety, is that right, m'lady?"

The response made her eyebrow raise. "Only here and there. Are you going to let me in your new chambers? I should see them. If they're not up to my standards, they will be sorted."

A darkness fell over Gendry. "I don't think that's clever, m'lady."

"Stop calling me that."

Gendry leaned against the door of his chambers. He found his arms folding in front of his chest. "Why not? That's what you is, ain't you? You're Lady Stark, goin' to be Lady Baratheon soon. Why're we pretendin' for? Stupid to talk like this in another man's castle."

Arya's face took on a blazing expression. "You're drunk. That's why you're speaking like an idiot. Again. Goodnight, Ser Gendry."

She did not wait for him to answer. Arya set upon the balls of her feet and danced away as quickly as she could.

"Night, Arry." Gendry whispered to no one before he looked his left boot and found the keys to his chambers.


	3. Strange Fruit

chapter 3: strange fruit

_"and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays." A Midsummer Night's Dream._

The Stormlands proved to be an unsettling place to Gendry so far. During their first week upon arrival, there was naught but rain and thunder to greet the castle's guests. Such conditions made further acquaintance between the Stormlanders and the Northmen difficult as both parties proved to be restless sorts when thunder roared about the sky and rain pounded down over the castle walls.

Yet, when the storm clouds fled, the whole of the castle was enthusiastic to set outdoors and take in the earthy, rain soaked air surrounding the land. Gendry thought that King Stannis must have sensed the growing discontent so he announced that the knights of House Stark and House Baratheon would have some training in preparation to join the houses together. Not a soul wished to go against the king's orders, so they all marched to the outdoors once the morning was bright and shining. For his part, Gendry was glad to get out of the castle's heavy stone walls. He felt like shit, in truth. And there was little he wanted more than to smash the shit out of something, anything. His days within the castle's halls with nothing to do but guard the lords, ladies, and royalty as they conversed amongst themselves behind closed doors or upon the dais put Gendry in a foul mood. Worst of all, Arya seemed to be making it a point to ignore him after their last tense meeting outside of his rooms. Gendry knew very well that he could have approached things differently, and he knew Arya was right. That fact did not make his heart lurch any less when a wall of silence stood between them. The desire to plead with her, to ask for her forgiveness, to bend to her will, was certainly strong. But despite those feelings, a more pressing desire to spit her own energy back in her face was even stronger. If Arya was content to ignore him in favor of her kin and the Baratheons, then he was keen to only do his duty by her as a knight. He would be no friend, and certainly no kind of lover, of m'lady on high. Such was his attitude when he led Arya and Lord Edric out onto Storm End's grounds.

Gendry walked in silence before Arya. He dared not utter a word, though he could sense her shift somewhat behind him. She made an awful lot of noises as if she was trying to capture his attention. But Gendry was resolved to be remain in his place. Especially when she was accompanied by her betrothed.

As far as Gendry was concerned, Lord Edric was a cunt. That was the long and short of it. In the brief time he was in the lord's presence, he could not find any promising aspects of his lordship's person. The boy was quick to laugh, but he also held a haughty demeanor paired with steady currents of anger that Gendry felt like pushing against. Not that it would ever be his place to do so. As it was, Gendry could hardly stand to listen to his lordship speak to Arya as they both walked back of him. When they arrived in the great courtyards where the practice was set to begin, Arya and Edric stood still towards the center of the sparring circle while Gendry took his place behind them. He tried to not hear their conversation but the temptation was far too great.

"And you've been trained in arms?" Arya asked. Gendry thought Arya looked very pretty today in a long grey dress with her hair pinned back to her head. But her manner of dress looked simple compared to the shining black leather and gold lined black cloak worn by Lord Edric.

Edric gave a haughty laugh. "I most certainly have, Lady Arya."

Arya shifted her stance. "You can just call me 'Arya.'"

That made Edric laugh again but it was a soft laughter this time. "Very well, Arya. I'm Lord of Storm's End, clearly. There was never any doubt my uncle would grant me my rightful name when he became king so I could one day rule Storm's End as lord in his stead. As my father's rightful heir, I started receiving training in swords as a boy. By the time I was a boy of four-and-ten, I was essentially a master with the longsword. However, if you must know, I am leagues greater with a war hammer."

Arya leaned closer to the lord and Gendry had to fight the urge to throttle him. "Like your father, King Robert?"

Edric mirrored Arya, and leaned into her to say, "Precisely."

Arya stepped back, her hands were placed on her hips. "I assume you're a brilliant master with the war hammer if it pales your swordsmanship in comparison."

Edric's puffed out his shoulders and looked out into the crowding coutyard. "There's hardly a man in this yard who would be foolish enough to try and best me in the yard, I have to be honest--"

"I bet you got 'em pissin' themselves." Gendry muttered under his breath, almost too low to be heard.

But Edric did hear. He turned around and faced Gendry to ask, "Excuse me? Did you say something, Ser Gary, is it?" His eyes were filled with disdain as he regarded Gendry from top to bottom.

O' course he heard. With them big fuckin' ears, after all.

Gendry was fixed to say the first thing to come to mind, but then Arya cut in quick as always.

"My lord, this knight is Ser Gendry, my sword shield. He's been accompanying me for most of our short time in Storm's End." Her face was still, but Gendry could see her eyes narrow at him.

"Must have slipped my mind, then. Apologies, Ser Gendry." Edric said without an ounce of feeling.

Gendry exhaled. "Nothing to apologize for, M'lord. And, no, I wasn't saying nothing. Just had a cough is all. I ent used to the storm weather, I s'pose."

The response seemed to satisfy Edric because he relaxed his shoulders, his eyes going from Gendry back to Arya. "Right. Makes sense. I've always said it takes a certain amount of grit to get along in the Stormlands. Some men aren't born with much to start with. Like I was saying, Arya, I'm the best you'll find with a war hammer, but my swordsmanship is nothing to sneeze at, trust."

Arya gave Gendry one last look before focusing on Edric. "Truly? I don't know what you've heard about me, Lord Edric. But, I also know my way around a sword."

Edric clapped his hands together. "So the tales are true? Strange, I don't see you with a sword right now."

"For good reason. I was told your uncle, His Grace, would not be pleased to see a woman wielding a sword. Certainly not one betrothed to his nephew." The irritation in Arya's voice was plain to hear.

"My uncle's a right arse. In complete honesty, I expect your advisors are telling it true. That won't be a problem once he's gone back to King's Landing, however. Storm's End is far different when he's not around. You'll see that soon enough."

But before Arya could respond, King Stannis and Lord Davos entered the courtyard, clearly making their way over to where Arya, Edric, and Gendry stood. Behind them, Gendry could see Lord Robb walking alongside Princess Shireen. The courtyard's crowd of knights and men with hopes of becoming knights parted for them. Once King Stannis stood before Arya and Edric, Gendry tried to maintain his gaze at anything but the king since that seemed like the respectful thing to do when standing before the king. But try as he might to be invisible, Gendry could feel King Stannis' stare land on him even as he addressed his nephew. That sensation drew Gendry's look back to the king. The king was tall and strong despite the weathered look on his face. He was bald and on his head there sat a crown of stag upon a burning heart. Gendry remembered Lord Beric and Thoros of Myr. They were servants of some fire god, a fire god that did unnatural things like awaken the dead. Gendry felt unease go down his spine for half a heartbeat.

"Nephew."

Edric bowed his head quickly. "Your Grace."

"The men have been growing soft and lax in the castle. As lord of this castle, you will fight last. The knights will fight but there will be no blood drawn. We will need to divide the men amongst the houses after the weddings take place. First, we will need to see what prowess these men possess, however."

"Understood, Your Grace."

The King made to turn to his Hand, he gave one more look at Gendry. This time it appeared he meant to say something.

"Ser, come forth," commanded the King.

Gendry knew he was being addressed by the king specifically even if his name was not uttered.  
He turned to look at the king. Gendry bowed and then looked the king straight in the eye.

"Your Grace."

"Do you belong to the Starks?"

"Aye, I'm sworn to Lord Robb. My duty is to guard Lady Arya."

"Is that so?" The king's cold blue eyes moved to Arya for a brief moment before fixing back to Gendry.

"Aye, Your Grace."

The King's blue eye's narrowed. "I hear King's Landing in your voice. I also know that face of yours because it's my brother's face. My nephew also sports the same look. The years have passed by, but I do believe recall seeing you once as an apprentice boy in a smithy while I was accompanied by Jon Arryn. If you're smarter than my brother, then you may remember me."

Suddenly, Gendry recalled. The old drunk king's hand and a tall bald lord did come to Tobho Mott's smithy when Gendry was only a boy. King Stannis’ memory was exactly right. Many years had past, and the two of them were so vastly different from what they were then, but Gendry found he did know the face in front of him. "I do, Your Grace."

Edric interrupted. Confusion was plain on his face. "Have you met Ser Gendry before, Uncle?"

King Stannis snorted. "Only briefly. I first saw Ser Gendry when he was a smith's apprentice. Jon Arryn and I went to see the boy when we felt our suspicious about Cersei were true. Edric, this is your half brother."

The lord's face looked incredulous. "Half brother? Him?"

The king gave his nephew a look of disdain. "Surprised? Don't be. You know very well that your father had too many bastards to count. You're both included in the lot. King Robert bedded ladies, whores, milk maids, and tavern wenches all the same. Not that it matters in the end. I expect he would glad to see his sons in one house. The Lord of Light does work in unexpected means."

Edric looked like he was not so sure. "By the looks of it."

King Stannis did not bother to respond. Instead, he gave his nephew a cold look. If he had anything more to say, he was interrupted by the arrival of Princess Shireen and Lord Robb.

The princess stood tall and composed before her father. She did not appear the least bit intimidated by the king, which struck her odd to Gendry since most of the people in the caste seemed at least someone put off by King Stannis. "Father, I think we ought to start the activities soon. All the knights are assembled."

The king cocked his head and looked at the circle formed about the courtyard. "Aye, so they are. Edric, this is you're castle. Commence."

Gendry thought he saw a smile on Princess Shireen's go as quickly as it came as she watched Edric walked towards the center of the circle.

The lord looked like a right cocky bastard as his voice boomed out to the yard. "Good sers! Any of you may offer yourself up to partake in the one-on-one combat. However, there's only one rule that must be abided: do not draw blood. The first round will now commence. Step into the circle if you're bold enough."  
The men cheered as Edric walked out of the circle and the first two men stepped inside, ready for battle.  
\--  
Arya felt a sting of envy as she saw the men dive into combat. She almost reached for her own sword, the one Gendry made her all those years past, but she had nowhere to wear it the bloody gown she was made to wear.

The only thing to break her concentrations was the sudden feeling of an arm circle into hers. Arya looked over and saw that the arm belonged to Princess Shireen. She looked down at Arya with a kindly face.

It was a surprising action, but Arya said, "Hello, Princess Shireen."

When Shireen responded, she leaned down to speak into Arya's ear. "I think we ought to leave the men to their fighting. Perhaps we can speak in the castle."

Intrigued, Arya nodded her head. "Gendry, stay here. We'll be back soon."

He frowned, but Arya ignored him.

The castle was still cold and filled with stormy air. But the two walked about the hall, now filled with an odd silence since nearly all the men were outside.

"We have not much time speak to each other, have we, Lady Arya?" The Princess sounded a bit stiff despite her otherwise rich voice.

Arya nodded her head. "No. You can just call me, Arya, by the way."

"If you wish, Arya. Have you enjoyed Storm's End so far?"

Arya shrugged her shoulders. "It's been fine, I suppose. I've faired through worse."

"So I've heard. Is it true you were once held by rebels in the Riverlands?"

Arya snorted. "It's true, but they were the sunnier parts of my time before I was returned to my mother and brother."

Shireen stopped and looked at Arya. Her face was soft and full of concern. Arya thought she looked much prettier than people gave her credit for despite the scars. Her voice was not as stiff as it had been. She grasped on Arya's hands. "I am quite sorry to hear that, Arya. I do not know what you have been through in truth, but I would like to get to know you better. After all, we're meant to be good sisters once I've married your brother."

The kindness was strange to Arya's ears but it sounded since sincere so she fought the urge to give a smart retort. "I would like that as well. I'm also going to marry your cousin so we're all going to be a big family, aren't we?"

For a moment, Arya thought she saw the princess' smile falter, but she caught herself. "Do you like Edric?"  
Arya breathed deep. "He's amusing."

A true smile flashed on the princess' face. "That he is. He's great fun. Edric is the best friend I've ever had. When we were little, I thought we were going to marry until my father told me that I was going to marry your brother. Isn't that funny? I thought since he was a bastard that I was going to give him his name, even. We were going to be the Lord and Lady of Dragonstone and Storm's End."

Arya gave a polite laugh. "That is rather funny. Nothing turned out as we thought. I never thought I'd leave Winterfell once I got back."

The princess looked down at her hands clasped into Arya's. "And here we are. I'm going to be Queen on the Iron Throne and you will be the Lady of Storm's End."

The Princess Shireen sounded pleased by the turn of events, but the reality brought nothing but a lurch to Arya's stomach so she said nothing in response.

Shireen exhaled and held her head up high. "I'm glad you're going to be my sister, Arya. I can feel you're easy to talk to. Some of the ladies are not so fond of me, to tell the truth."

Arya blinked. "I find it hard to believe that well bred southern ladies would be unkind to the future queen."

A bitter smile crept over the princess' face. "They're not unkind. If anything, they are pictures of manners and grace. However, my father taught me to see people truly. They think I am not pretty, that my scars from greyscale are unsightly, that I am not a lovely queen like the ones in songs. No, I am King Stannis' scarred, earnest daughter. So be it. That's my nature. And I can tell that you are true to your own nature as well. Know this, Arya, Edric won't try to change you. He's always protected me and cared for me as I am. Yes, he's vain and silly and jealous and insecure because of his birth, but he's not a bad man. Not by a long shot."

Arya frowned. "That's good to know, Princess. My brother Robb will be a fine consort, I think. He's so good, he's so much like my father."

The princess nodded her head. "He does seem rather fine so far."

Arya was about to say more but then a loud yell fell over the castle.

Shireen and Arya looked at each other before they rushed out back into the courtyard.

Arya's widened when she saw Gendry and Robb brawling about the courtyard circle.

"Enough!" Shouted King Stannis.

It took two men to separate the men. One of those men was Gendry. Arya gasped when she saw him take a punch to the eye from Edric as he pushed him back from Robb. Gendry pushed him back so fiercely that Edric fell over on the ground. Robb was fuming as a knight Arya knew as Ser Whelan pushed Robb back.

King Stannis moved forward from where he stood in order to grab his nephew by the collar. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Is that how a lord fights, boy?"

Edric pulled himself away from his uncle. His face was bright red and his lip was swollen, a trickle of blood dripping down. Arya saw him lick his lip before he spit on the floor and stormed into the castle.

The King followed him, but to Arya's surprise, Princess Shireen followed as well. Her face was the vision of concern.

\---

There was no formal dinner that night. The king announced that the men needed rest. Arya figured it had something to do with the fight.

Despite of what an idiot he was, Arya felt worry for Gendry. So, she used her all her stealth to reach his chambers once night fell.

She knocked lightly on the door. Hoping he would hear. A moment passed before the door opened. Gendry looked down at her. She saw a great bruise had already bloomed over his eye and cheek.

"Gendry, are you okay? Can I come in?"

Gendry looked uncertain but he still he looked about the hall, and then seeing no one but her, he let her inside the room.

He then closed the door behind them with a gentleness Arya did not know he possessed.

"I'm fine, Arya. It's just a bruise from that cunt, Edric. He got a lucky swing in is all."

Arya smiled. Her palm cupped his face. She moved her fingers over to stroke the bruise. In truth, she almost hated how Gendry looked even more dashing with one. Even lovelier, his face took on a look of a pleasure as she pressed into the sensitive skin.

"I think you're right. Why did they start fighting like that?"

Gendry shrugged his shoulders. "Fuck if I know. First, they were fighting like normal, and then Edric knocked the sword out of your brother's hands. Then, your brother kicked him under his feet, and that made Edric's sword fly off as well. It almost cut off Lord Davos' left over fingers."

"So they started brawling?"

"That's right. Your brother is my lord so I stepped in."

Arya bit her lip. She thought of what the king revealed earlier. "But Lord Edric is your brother, too."

Gendry snorted as we walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge. Arya followed and did the same.

"Doesn't really matter. Like the king said, King Robert had too many bastards to count. I ent anything special. My mum was no lady. He's as much as my brother as any of the beggars we saw on the way over here from Storm's End. Shit, one of them might be King Robert's get, too."

Arya put her hand over his thigh. She stroked his knee without really thinking only to notice what her hand was doing when Gendry suddenly stopped talking. Arya saw his eyes were fixed upon her hand over his knee.

"Arya." His voice was low and tender.

"Mmm? Yes?"

"I missed you. I'm sorry I was a dickhead the last time we spoke. I just don't like the castle very much, I think."

Arya bit her lip. "I feel much the same."

"I just don't know what to do, Arry. You know how much I feel for you. But how can we go on once you're married to another man? Even if he wasn't no lord. I can't stand to share---"

Arya cut him off. Her hand moved from his knee to his shoulder as Arya leaned herself into him, raising her head up to press a kiss on his lips. To Arya's delight and surprise, Gendry did not pull back. Rather, he leaned in, his own hands moving onto her hips. Arya moaned as his tongue lightly danced over her bottom lip before slipping into her mouth.

That's when Arya pulled herself away. A sudden thought came before her. One that had to be considered in solitude. So, Arya made to straighten her skirts and stood up from the bed. "I'm sorry, Gendry, but I have to leave. I just wanted to see if you were okay. I told my mother that I would meet her and the other ladies for a prayer."

"So late?" He looked like he did not believe her lie.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I must go. But I should like to see you tomorrow, if you want."

Gendry nodded his head. "I do want."

When Arya left the room, she moved her cape's hood down over her head and scurried off to room.

It had been many years since Arya was the ghost of a castle. But now here she was. A ghost once more. But unlike then, she was not sure if there would be a way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3 The Baratheons are a strange lot and I'm really proud of them. 
> 
> Any feedback, constructive and/or kind or just general reactions, is welcome.
> 
> Next chapter will be called “Three Weddings and a Funeral”


	4. Cloaking

"I beat my wings against the wire,  
I pant my trammelled heart away;  
The fever of one mad desire  
Burns and consumes me all the day."

"Captive" Rose Terry Cooke

Chapter 4: Cloaking

Arya felt uneasy as she looked at herself in the long mirror inside of the lady of the house's parlor. Her long face was hers, yes. So was her spindly body, her dark hair resting right above her shoulders, and her grey eyes. By any physical account, she was Arya Stark. However, the vision before her felt like a stranger. Arya Stark did not wear long, black velvet gowns trimmed in gold. She did not find her arms and hands dwarfed by wide and cascading sleeves made of Myrish lace. And most importantly, she did not lose her breath as the result of having her waist cinched into an impossibly tight corseted gown.

Yet, here she was, getting laced into submission by a servant while the noblewomen in Storm's End scrutinized her from every angle.

"A bit plain, I think," Queen Selyse said as she sat on a bench next to Princess Shireen and Catelyn.

Catelyn looked at her sharply, and responded to the queen's comment with a voice to match. "Queen Selyse, I am sure you do not mean to be so unkind to the bride-to-be."

Queen Selyse merely rolled her eyes. "The girl is lovely, to be sure. That's to be expected at her age. I only meant to say that the bridal dress is somewhat lacking."

Princess Shireen cut her off. "Mother, if you'll recall, she will have a crown of golden leaves. It's expected to arrive any day soon from the goldsmith. Plenty of time given that there will be only nine days before the wedding."

The queen looked unimpressed. "Hmmph. When I was young, a bride wore her finest. A house spared no expense on the day a great lady was married into another house. After all, a woman must be proud and treasured when she entered the world at large as a wife. With so little finery, how can Lady Arya demonstrate that she is the true and proper lady of the Stormlands?"

Arya finally snapped. "Won't the bedding be enough of a demonstration?" She did not dare look at her mother's face because Arya knew she erred the moment the words sprung forth from her lips.

Queen Selyse gasped, she looked forth between her surprised daughter’s face and Catelyn's horrified expression. "Lady Arya, I knew you were a girl of the north, but I did not think you would be so ill-mannered. I do not approve of septas for they are instruments of darkness and evil teachings of false gods, but I think you could have used one in any case."

Arya's whole face and body flushed. Despite everything that happened in her life, sometimes she still felt like a child being reprimanded by Septa Mordane. So many lifetimes ago, but still so close. Arya refused to be belittled by Selyse Baratheon, even if she was a queen. "I suppose I am still a undomesticated wolf. Sorry, I don't think I am fit to be in the presence of queens, princesses, and ladies at the moment."

All this was said as Arya made a quick exit out the parlor. The instant she moved forth, the serving girl immediately let loose of the gown's horrid, constricting laces. A voice that sounded like Lady Catelyn's called into the air, but Arya could not make out the words for she was lost in the tumult of her own mind. The only things she could hear were her loud, thumping heartbeats and the beats of her shoes walking quickly over the floors as she practically sprinted to her chambers.

Once evening fell over Storm's End, it appeared that no one was going to call Arya to attend supper. Arya assumed that the neither the Queen nor her mother had any interest in dining with her after the embarrassment of the gown fitting. It was not matter to Arya for she had little desire to see any of the Baratheons. The prospect of her wedding to Edric only made her time there more difficult as the wedding approached. She knew her days as Arya Stark were numbered. In a matter of days, she would be Lady Arya Baratheon, wife to Edric Baratheon, the lord of Storm's End. Her mind attempted to mull over any possible escape attempts, but they all seemed futile. Fleeting fantasies of joining some rebels again or running off to a ship with the coin that Jaqen H'ghar gave her when she was a child in Harrenhal came to her imagination. Yet, all of those fantasies were poor and impossible when she considered all that she would be leaving behind. Her name, her honor, and her family. Not that any of that seemed so important when Arya considered how little of it she would be able to keep soon enough. Her family would return to Winterfell and her name would be exchanged for Baratheon. In the end, all she had left was honor. The little honor that remained to her after Harrenhal seemed precious. She could lose it, but at what cost? There was no place to hide, Arya decided as she draped herself over the bed, burying her head into a pillow.

Then came the sound of knocking on the chamber's door. "Arya, are you there?" Arya picked up her head. The voice belonged to Gendry.

Arya stood up from the bed and straightened the skirts of the wedding gown. When she opened the door, Gendry's faced shifted from concerned to astonished as he took in the sight of Arya. The intensity of his gaze was enough to make Arya blush.

Gendry gulped before he found the composure to speak. "Arya, I---I only wanted to see if you were doing alright. You're not at supper with the rest."

"Neither are you."

Gendry shrugged. "No one mind's some bastard knight." Arya rolled her eyes, but Gendry soldiered on,"I think they rather notice when a princess ent there."

Arya's hands fell to her hips. She wondered furiously if her family's interference would ever end. "So is that what you're here for? To fetch me back for my mother's manners? So she isn't embarrassed by the bloody queen? I'm so sick to death of this---"

A distinct look of annoyance formed on Gendry's handsome face. "I don't got orders to be here. I only wanted to see if you were fine. If I'm bothering m'lady, I'll leave then."

Gendry turned to leave in a moody step, but before he could get far, Arya quickly reached over and held his hand. She locked her fingers into his and squeezed. The motions were enough to freeze Gendry in place. The corridor was empty save for Arya and Gendry. Though only moments passed amidst the silence of their hands entwined, it felt like days, months, or years between the two of them. As if entranced by some sort of witch's spell, Arya found herself pulling on Gendry's hand. She pulled him closer into her and into her chambers. Any hesitation she may have had was gone in the very instant when it became clear Gendry was happy to be compelled by the same spell. Instead of pull away or protest at the wrongness of what they were doing, Gendry allowed himself to be pulled into Arya Stark.  
\---

Gendry sighed when he closed the chamber's door behind them. He wanted to say something sweet, kind, and express his want for her. If he could simply find the right words, Arya would know how much he loved her, how he did not need anyone to tell him to find her or think of her. Those qualities were ingrained in his being after years of looking out for one another.

"You already know I don't need anyone to send me for you," Gendry said as he leaned against the door, his hand still in Arya's.

She looked sheepish after her brief outburst. "I'm sorry. I suppose I'm just not feeling right these days."

Gendry felt unease spring forth in the pit of his stomach. His hand squeezed hers. "Is it on account of the wedding?"

Arya did not look at him. Her eyes were trained on their hands. Gendry thought she looked beautiful in the fancy gown she wore, but it did make her look rather like a proper lady instead of his Arya.

Arya took a deep breath and exhaled. When she answered Gendry's question, she looked at him directly in the eyes. "I don't want to get married."

The unease in Gendry's stomach transformed into something hopeful, excited. "I don't want you to get married either. And definitely not to that spoiled cunt, Edric."  
Arya bit her lip. A faint smile bloomed on her pretty face. "He is a proper lordling, isn't he?"

Gendry could not help but snort. His initial jealousy towards the lord of Storm's End now turned to outright contempt for half brother. "Lord Robb ent like that. Don't look like King Stannis is neither. I met loads of lords and rich men when I was an armorer. You know he's the arsehole kind."

Arya looked as if she was considering his words thoughtfully. The pause was enough to make Gendry wonder if he said the wrong thing until Arya responded by inching closer. Gendry matched her movement until their bodies were only separated by garment material.

The look in Arya's eyes as she looked up at Gendry was enough to make him feel as if he was in a dream. He felt as if they were in their own world where none of the rules of the outside world applied. Though they were in Storm's End, Gendry felt as if they were back in their hiding place in Winterfell.

Her voice was tender when she said, "I'd rather marry you. I love you, Gendry."

Gendry closed his eyes, letting the pleasure of her words wash over him. "I love you, too, Arya. I'd give anything to be yours."

That's when he felt the pull of his cloak. Arya pulled him down by one hand, and she used the other previously clasped hand to cup his face. "Then be mine."

Gendry pressed his mouth hard on hers. He wanted nothing more but to have every part of her. Over the past year, a terrible hunger for Arya developed inside of him. The hunger to kiss her, undress her, tell her how beautiful and amazing she was, and give himself to her completely, made Gendry feel like he was starving. The more they were denied one another, the more Gendry felt a hollowness that only felt full when they found brief moments to escape into each other.

If he ever doubted whether Arya held any similar feeling, that vanished in their embrace. She kissed him as fiercely as she did everything. When Gendry's hands slipped down from her waist to below her bottom in order to pick her up, Arya bit so hard on his lips that she cut a bit of skin. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as Arya moved her lips from his mouth to the stubbled skin of his jaw and neck. Her lips and teeth sucked, nibbled, licked, and scraped over tender muscles that made Gendry close his eyes and open his mouth in pleasure. Gendry groaned when she found a particularly tense muscle on his shoulder and bit down. The sensation was enough to make Gendry push the pair of them forward in Arya's chambers until they hit the bed.

Arya was a breathing hard when she fell down onto her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows as she watched Gendry unclasp his cloak and cast it down onto the floor. Gendry smiled at the wicked smirk on Arya's face as she edged herself up further onto the bed. He kneeled down onto the foot of the bed, only reaching out to grab one of Arya's bare feet, bringing it up his mouth.

Gendry enjoyed the gasp that came slipped from Arya's lips as he kissed the heel of her foot. She seemed to enjoy his daring so he kissed up the sole of her foot, and then traveled up to her ankle. As he did so, the skirt of Arya's gown slipped down to her thighs. In this new unveiling, Gendry took a moment to admire the strong, curved form of Arya's legs. One of his hands caressed the smooth pale skin, while the other hand thumbed at the fine black velvet fabric.

Gendry kissed her calf and murmured against the muscle. "Is this your wedding gown?"

The question appeared to snap Arya out of her lustful daze. She pulled her leg away from Gendry's grasp. She sat up on the bed for a moment as if contemplating the question and their situation. Gendry anticipated she would tell him to leave. Rather, Arya's eyes went into their steely determination, and she crawled over to Gendry.

His eyes fluttered shut when he felt the hard pull of her fingers in his hair. Only the feel of her forehead against his could will them back open.

Arya's voice was low and husky when she at last answered his question, "Yes, it's my wedding gown. I think you ought to take it off. It's only proper that you do it."

Some quality in the use of "you" is what pushed Gendry beyond his hard trained boundaries with Arya. In that moment, he did not care that she was a princess bride, or that he was just her bastard shield. They were made for each other. Nothing else was more certain.

Gendry and Arya worked her out of he dress with great care and quick timing. Arya pulled off her smallclothes with the gown, casting them onto a pile on the floor that was soon made larger with the addition of Gendry's clothes.

Heat and sweat filled the room as Arya and Gendry wrapped themselves in each other's limbs, kissing and groping whatever they could. Arya favored Gendry's thick, muscled arms, broad back, and muscled flat stomach. On the other hand, Gendry could not seem to keep his hands off of Arya's small breasts, wide hips, or firm bottom. Their lips pressed against any skin available. A playfulness set in quickly as they rolled around the bed. They even wrestled, which ultimately ended with Arya sitting atop of Gendry's abdomen while he stared up at her, hands on her narrow waist. Gendry smiled as he could feel her cunt's wet on his skin.

Arya straightened out her shoulders and looked at Gendry with a daring expression when she said, "I think you ought to fuck me."

Gendry felt almost dumbstruck, but he was in no state to protest against his own desires. Still, he had to know. "Is that what you want? Not just because of the wedding?"  
A sad look flickered over Arya's face before she took on a solemn look. She leaned over and pushed her forehead into his once again. "I do want it. I want you. This way we will be ours. No wedding can change that or take it away from us."

Gendry said nothing. His words were demonstrated in kisses and soft touches. His mouth tenderly gnawed and sucked on her lips while his hands moved softly up her arms. Arya sighed and allowed him to flip her over. She bit her bottom lip as he pulled up her legs and wrapped them around his hips while he positioned his cock at her entrance. A gasp escaped both of their mouths as they experienced the intensity of his entrance. Arya's muscles grasped around his cock, but she urged Gendry forward. His slow pumping gradually changed to a swift pounding that only became easier as Arya's muscles eased and she became only slicker. The sound of skin slapping together and their mutual groans an moans sent Gendry into a foggy blur of pleasure. Before he knew it, he was bucking hard into Arya and this brought intense spasms in his cock. Gendry collapsed on Arya, feeling paralyzed and completely happy as she stroked his sweaty hair.

"I fucking love you, Arry," was all Gendry managed to say.

Arya whispered, "I love you, Gendry."

When Gendry rolled off of Arya, he stared up at the gold linens on the canopy. He was so far beyond where was born to be, but this felt right. Arya was always right.

When the sweat of their bodies finally cooled off in the stormy chill air, Gendry saw Arya lean over the side of the bed. When she moved back up, her hand held his cloak.

Gendry thought Arya looked beautiful with her flushed face and messy brown her. He wanted to kiss her red swollen lips again, but Arya did not allow for this opportunity.

"I should cloak you in this," Arya said before she settled down next to where Gendry was resting, and draped the cloak over their figures.  
\---  
Gendry was gone before the moonlight was replaced by the rising sun.

The next morning, Arya gathered the gown as neatly as she could. She determined that she would apologize to ladies for her ill manners the day before. The last things Arya wanted were even more tension and conflict since the days leading up to her wedding were enough to make her ill. The arguments over her manners hardly seemed worth having when Queen Selyse, Princess Shireen, and her mother would all be gone soon. Though it pained her pride at times, Arya's experiences in war taught her the value of resolving conflicts with loved ones. Life was cruel, she knew. There were no promises for a tomorrow.

Storm's End was quiet early in the morning. The castle was still fast asleep save for servants running about here and there. Arya could almost feel like home as she took in the salty breeze and cloudy light shining through every castle window.  
The lady of the house's parlor was in a somewhat secluded part of the castle, far away from where any knights' practice or servants' chatter could be heard. There was even a special stairway that led up to parlor.

At such an early hour, Arya did not expect to hear voices coming from the parlor, but as she walked up the stairway, the faint notes of voices travelled downwards to Arya's ears. Practicing her ability to be as quiet as a mouse, Arya crept up the stairs without so much as peep. When she reached the top of the stairs, she noticed that the parlor door was half open. Arya stood to the side of the door, and listened to the voices. People were inside, she knew.

A deep young woman's voice was whispering. "I don't want it any more than you do, my love."

A low breath exhaled from a man was the initial response. "Then we should do something. Your father is out of---"

There was a sigh of deep annoyance from the woman. "He is my father. And he is your uncle. Most importantly, he is king."

Arya's eyes widened with recognition. The voices belonged to Edric and Shireen.

A pause fell over the room before Edric spoke. "Then we have no choice? We must go into our futures like sheep being led to lions because your father said so?"

Arya could hear the emotion in Shireen's voice. "We have a duty. We were raised for these roles. I am going to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and you shall be the Lord of Storm's End. Perhaps you'll learn to love Arya. I don't know if I'll ever love Robb as I love you, but I can't promise you more than my heart as it lives inside me. We can't live a life together."

Even stranger to Arya's ears, Edric's voice sounded as though he was also on the verge of tears. "You're wrong. I won't love her, and I'll find a way for us."

"Oh, Edric, please..."

As if compelled by some force, some deep horrible curiosity to see if what her ears heard were true, Arya moved out of the door's side. For a moment, she looked directly into the parlor through the open side of the doorway. There she saw Edric's tall, handsome figure looking slightly disheveled and shirtless as he leaned slightly into Shireen's tall form dressed only in a modest nightgown. Edric kissed the top of her head, moving down to kiss her lips and then placing passionate kisses all over neck and then her scars.

Arya suddenly felt the self-disgust of interpolating so she quickly and quietly made her way down the stairs. She hoped to old gods and the new that she went unnoticed by the pair.  
Nothing would be as it was. The time for any attempts at going back to her former life was now a thing of dead fantasy in Arya's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had certain plans for this chapter, but then I actually started writing it...
> 
> The original plot for this chapter was rather stuffed so I decided to break up the weddings and the funeral in different chapters. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love feedback! Like, I mean, really like it. We're talking serious endorphins.


	5. A Cage for Us (The Princess Bride)

_**Moonlight: Chapter 5: A Cage for Us (The Princess Bride)** _

Arya Stark was not the sort of person who dreamt of a wedding. As a child, she swore to her father that she would be no lord's lady. After all, ladies were like her mother or her sister, Sansa. A princess bride could never be a skinny disheveled horse faced girl with a skinny sword in her hand. 

And, yet, here she was in a wedding gown at a wedding of her own. Arya said nothing as she looked down at the two crowds of people divided by a walkway leading to an magnificent burning arch. On one side of the isle, stood the Starks and their retinue. Arya could see her mother dressed in a splendid velvet dark blue gown lined with pale white fur. Her hair was in a long auburn braid that she coiled with silver string. The string was the same kind that Catelyn used to braid Arya's own hair while Arya was made ready for the wedding ceremony. 

"Are you not a little fearful?" Catelyn asked as she combed through the thick wavy knots in Arya's hair. 

Arya stared at her face in her quarter's mirror. She looked pale and rosy on account of the dabble of pink added from her mother's pot of rouge. 

She could not help but sigh. "I don't think 'fear' is the word I would use," Arya said as she flinched as Catelyn pulled on a particularly tough knot.

"Straighten your back," Catelyn said as she pulled Arya's hair into sections and began to braid. When she was done, Catelyn placed a kiss on Arya's head. 

"You look very beautiful. I know your father would be proud. Astounded, but proud, nevertheless."

Arya felt her face blush. She was not used to compliments about her appearance from anyone besides Gendry. Still, Arya muttered in response, "Thank you, Mother." 

When it was time to dress Arya in her wedding gown, a maid was brought inside the chambers in order to lace up the gown. However, it was Lady Catelyn who placed a simple crown of blue silk roses on Arya's head. And it was her lady mother who clasped a heavy grey wool maiden's cloak trimmed with light grey fur and adorned with pearls and dark precious stones depicting the Stark's direwolf sigil. 

As Arya took one last look in the mirror, she wondered if it was really her in the gown, crown, and cloak. Arya Stark would have her last moments as a princess bride. Soon, she'd be Arya Baratheon. Lady of Storm's End. The thought made her feel nauseous. 

A part of Arya wanted nothing more than to break from Robb's arm in order to run out of the castle. She would run far, far from Storm's End. From there, she could do anything she wanted. If she wanted, she could take off into the forest and find her long dreamt of Nymeria. On the terrible chance that she could not find her dear wolf, Arya imagined for half a heartbeat that she could drag Gendry with her so they could find a horse and run off together. Just like Wenda the White Fawn. 

But that was just a stupid dream. Life taught Arya Stark many cruelties. What was this next cruelty of an arranged marriage with some twat compared to others? 

Her bitter thoughts were only broken when she felt Robb lean into her. "You look very pretty, Arya. I wish father and Jon were here," Robb whispered into Arya's ear.

Arya looked up at her older brother. Robb looked every bit the handsome lord in his fine brown leathers, heavy brown cloak, and black and brown furs. 

Just like Father, Arya thought. She gulped at the memory of her father and other brother. Their absences only made the loneliness of this occasion feel more acute. 

"Thank you. I-I think I'm ready. Let's go," Arya said as she nudged him forward. As the pair walked down the aisle, Arya felt all eyes on her. She did her best to keep her own eyes focused on the tall fiery arch where the king's witch, Melisandre of Asshai, stood at the center. To Melisandre's right, King Stannis and Queen Selyse stood, each looking stoic and imperious, respectively.

However, Arya's focus ultimately centered on her lord husband-to-be. Edric Baratheon looked quite handsome in his black leathers and gold jewels. Arya could see a black silk cloak embroidered with the dancing stag upon a fiery heart of the Baratheon sigil. To any girl in the seven kingdom, he would be an absolute dream. Tall, strongly built, princely, and handsome with vivid blue eyes. Arya knew most of the girls would dream of a man to marry. These souls would think her incredibly lucky to be wed to a handsome lord. But, to Arya, he was not the sort of man she dreamt of. Far from it. 

When Arya was finally standing before Edric, Robb let go of her arm. Arya watched her brother go by as he took his place next to their mother. 

Edric's face looked as unenthusiastic as Arya felt when she turned to look at him. For a half a heartbeat, their eyes fixed into each other's. Edric's eyes were so similar to Gendry's, but they were certainly not the same. The passion that forever burned in her blacksmith's eyes were so unlike the blaze in Edric's. He had a passion, yes, but it was for more than just love and honor. That much Arya could tell strange as this man seemed. 

Their brief gaze broke when, at last, the Red Witch spoke to the whole crowd in her priestess' voice. Though her voice called out to all, the directions spoke clearly to Edric and Arya. 

"Come to me and be as one."

Yet, before Arya and Edric could inch more than a step closer to the priestess, a great line of flames shot down on the ground before them. 

Arya could hear the Winterfell side of the ceremony erupt in gasps, but on the Baratheon sides, loud claps and prayers were shouted. 

When the reactions settled down, the priestess waved her hands to Arya and Edric. She motioned for them to jump. "Lord Baratheon and Lady Stark. Please jump over the flames and place yourself into the hands of the lord of light."

Never one to back out of a dare, Arya grabbed onto Edric's empty hand so that he could follow her into the blaze. To her surprise, there was no resistance on his part. He seemed as eager as she to get this over with as soon as possible. 

Arya took a heavy breath as she took in all the flames surrounding her. 

The priestess seemed to be in a marvelous trance when she boomed out, "“Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another, and from you, our lord. Two come forth today to join their lives, so they may face this world’s darkness together. Fill their hearts with fire, my lord, so they may walk your shining path hand in hand forever. Two went into the flames, but one emerges. What fire joins, none may put asunder.”

King Stannis and Queen Selyse repeated after the priestess. "What fire joins, none may put asunder."

Though Arya thought she was a person not easily startled, she did find herself taken aback when Edric grasped her hands into his and leaned his face into hers, placing a feather soft kiss on her lips. Her eyes rounded, but she said nothing as he then took off her maiden's cloak, dropped it to the floor, and placed his house's cloak upon her shoulders. 

"To the Lord and Lady of Storm's End!" Announced King Stannis, his majesty's earnest voice calling out their new life like a new chapter of the world. 

The crowds cheered along to the King's declaration, and that gave Arya enough time to pull her hands away from Edric, who did not resist her in the least. Together, they walked down the aisle, avoiding the glances of a single soul they passed. 

\----

In truth, Arya had only attended one wedding in her life. The Karstark's daughter married a Manderly son a few years past. Arya only went on account of the trip the family would make to White Harbor. Prior to the wedding, she only remembered vague childhood memories of traveling to the city with her father. 

Though the wedding was lavish as befit the Manderlys, Arya remembered one aspect of the wedding in vivid detail: the bedding. At the very end of the ceremony, she recalled how the newly wed lord and lady were taken off to their bedchambers. All the while, they were stripped of their clothes in a frenzy by wedding guests. Arya remembers how she was sitting next to her swornshield when this event took place. When she turned to look at Gendry, his face was blushing. Arya could tell he was purposefully avoiding her eyes. So, she extended her foot under the table and rub it along Gendry's calve. It took all of Arya's might not to laugh when he snapped his eyes towards her. Not now, his eyes seemed to say. But, Arya merely drank a spoonful of her soup while she continued to rub her foot against his calve. 

This bedding was different, however. Arya could find no humor in the matter when Lord Glover called out for a bedding. 

"Fuck," Arya whispered under her breath as the ladies in attendance pulled her out of her seat upon the dais where a throng of gentleman seemed eager to pull off her wedding gown. 

Though they were strong and fast men, Arya was faster. She moved so quick to her chambers, that she was completely covered by the time she reached the door. That is, until a Baratheon bannerman pulled on her skirt, causing Arya to fall on the floor in a slip. He was a strong man, and would have ripped the skirt off, if Gendry did not grab the man by the shoulders and throw him across the hall. 

"Are you alright?" Gendry asked as he helped her onto her feet. Arya said yes as she patted her skirts down, but she nearly sighed when she felt the warmth strength of Gendry's fingers as he straightened out the blue silk crown of roses on Arya's head. 

Arya wanted to say more, but before she could, a nearly naked Edric came laughing at her side, swatting away various ladies.

"Dear ladies, that time of my life is over. I am now a man wedded. And I shall be a husband bedded!" Arya had seen him drink a whole bottle of Arbor Gold before the bedding was even called out. He was drunk. 

Arya nearly pushed Edric away when upon seeing her by the door, wrapped her in his arms and twirled her around the room. "My lady! Wife! I see they couldn't undress you before I. And they said you would be a trifle. I think not!"

Arya tried to wriggle out our his arms, but Edric was too strong. When Edric finally realized Gendry was standing right next to them, he said, "Dear, Gansey, Ser Gansey. You've served my lady well, but she won't be needing you much longer. If you'll do us a favor and get lost, I would appreciate that."

At that, Arya slapped Edric. "Would you shut up?"

He grinned a toothy, white grin. "Make me, won't you?"

Gendry took that as his cue to leave before he beat the lord into a bloody pulp. "I'll be gone now." He said in a curt voice as he left the lord and lady in the hall alone. 

Arya pushed Edric aside as she opened the doors to their chambers. Not one to be left alone, Edric followed her inside, closing the door behind them. 

"So, Arya. I have a question," Edric said as he walked along the fireside, still naked except for some stocking on his feet and smallclothes on his bottom. 

Arya took a seat at their great ebon bed. "What's your question?"

"Are you a maiden?"

She did not expect such a question. "Does it matter?" 

Edric now played with a golden stag figurine on his desk near the fireside. He sighed. "I'm afraid so. You see, if you're a maiden, it is expected that we bed. I'll have to take your maidenhood."

Arya's eyebrows were now raised high. "And if I'm not?"

This time, he looked directly at her. There was no playful glint. "If you're not a maid, then I'm free to stay out of your bed. I suppose we could sleep on it, certainly, but we will not fuck."

Edric's words roused suspicion in Arya. Perhaps this was a trap, or a drunk man's ramblings. "You're drunk. I saw you drink that whole bottle of Arbor Gold."

At once, Edric burst into laughter. "Merely one bottle? You Starks are certainly a cold lot. You met my father, no? When your father was hand of the king? It takes a lot more than a bottle of strong wine to send me in my cups. However, it did take some courage to say what I have said to you."

Though Arya was not sure why, but his words rang true. "Fine, so, why don't you want to get on with the marriage? Is not that your duty as the Lord of Storm's End?"

Edric took a seat at his desk. His eyes moved from Arya to the fireside. "I have other duties, too."

Arya bit her lip. If he could be bold, so could she. "Is it on account of Princess Shireen? Do you love her?"

Edrics eyes snapped back to Arya. "What do you know of us?"

Only a shrug came to Arya. "I overheard the two of you as I reached the lady's solar one morning. But, I won't tell anyone."

"To right you won't. What's your price?"

Arya furrowed her brows. "Excuse me?"

Edric only huffed. "Everyone has a price. What's yours? Do you want to keep bedding your lowborn knight? I assume it must be him who took your maidenhead since he guards you like a prized---"

Arya jumped off the bed, rushing over to push Edric in his chair before he could finish talking. "Don't ever speak of Gendry. I wouldn't tell of you and Shireen to anyone because I happen to like Princess Shireen. You are a right pig, on the other hand. Still, you are right about one thing. I have a price. I don't want to ever bed you. And I most certainly do not want you to speak ill on Ser Gendry. You will leave him alone. Do you understand?"

"And what if I break half that promise?" Edric dared as she put her palm over his neck. 

An old instinct washed over Arya. One she thought was long gone. "You don't want to know."  
=========

Gendry threw up the sick that overcame him from drinking too much wine in a bush along the gardens of Storm's End. 

"Fuck," he said as he sat down on the stone ground. Gendry felt angry, jealousy, bitterness, and the heavy desire to weep as he thought about the pain of being present for Arya Stark's wedding. Here, he was no husband. Just her swornshield. To make matters worse, he had to watch that cunt, Edric, carry her into their wedding chambers. Not since the days of their march to Harrenhal had Gendry considered a killing a man in all earnestness. 

The combination of confusing thoughts and alcohol sickness made Gendry rest upon his back. He was staring at the evening sky, illuminated by moonlight, when he heard an older man's voice speaking to him. 

"Lad?" When Gendry turned his head, he saw a grizzled older man looking down at him. This man was wearing a small bag of bones around his neck, and on his pocket, there was a pin with a hand. The Hand of the King, Gendry thought with a panic as he jumped up to stand so quickly that he thought he might throw up again. 

"M'lord," Gendry said was a bow. 

The Hand's friendly face smiled. He extended his hand out for a shake and Gendry took it. "No need for all that, son. Call me 'Davos' if you please. Let's a talk a walk, if that's good by you, King Stannis told me that you are a son of Robert Baratheon."

Gendry shrugged as they walked along the gardens. "So they say. Name's Gendry, by the way, if your king didn't mention that much."

"You look every bit like your father, King Robert. He would've been glad to see one of his sons become a knight. Not only that, a knight in service of the Starks."

Davos' talk of King Robert only made Gendry's stomach churn further. "No offense, Lord Davos, but I couldn't give a rat's ass what King Robert wanted. He didn't even know I was alive. I became a knight with no one's help."

His answer did not seem to shock Davos in the slightest. "You sound like a Baratheon, alright. Can't blame you for the way you feel, son. Still, blood is blood all the same."

Gendry spit out the ground. "Bloody doubt that's true."

======

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....when I initially conceived of this story, Edric and Arya were going to consummate the marriage. However, as characters became more fleshed out, I decided that the narrative would be served better if these two were platonic. They're married but not MARRIED MARRIED.


	6. Tea Leaves

Moonlight

Chapter 6: Tea Leaves

Life as a married lady was not so unpleasant as Arya would have imagined. For one, she did not have to bed her lord husband. He awoke early hours before the crack of dawn each morning. Arya was not sure if Edric knew she was aware of his early departures, but she suspected he did not care in any case. His Princess Shireen awaited him. In truth, Arya preferred that Edric be gone. He did little to alleviate her sorrow. Her only solace is that it could've been worse. She could have married a man who wanted her as a man desires a woman. 

Arya looked around their chambers as light crept in through the window. When Edric finally entered from his outing, he looked rather disheveled. 

"Good morning, Lady Arya," Edric said as Arya slipped out of blankets. 

Arya rolled her eyes when she saw that Edric had a blooming bruise in the shape of a bite on his neck. "Is that mark on your neck meant to be from me?"

Edric stepped in front of the vanity dresser mirror to inspect his neck. "Oh dear. You are quite the incorrigible minx, Arya Stark. Aye, the whole castle will be in gasp at how fast we've taken to one another. Perhaps I should give you one to match," Edric said before he, without warning, made to chase Arya, but Arya sprinted off of the bed so quickly that Edric fell face first onto the grand bed. 

Arya pushed her hand through her hair. "Don't you dare."

Edric only laughed. "Alright, then. Just thought we could make things a bit more fun. An ice breaker, perhaps. I will respect my wife’s wishes and stay out of her bed. Don't fret. You could go ask your smith to do the honors of marking your neck in my stead."

That was enough for Arya. "Please, shut up. The day will be insufferable enough without your idiotic suggestions. And for the last time, Gendry is a knight. Address him as such. You should've never known he is a smith as well."

Edric merely breathed a dramatic sigh. "Fine. I don’t know if there's trouble in paradise for you and Ser Gansey, but I won't inquire further. If you insist on a bare neck, that's on you. Anyhow, I intend to call up for a hot bath to be drawn. You're welcome to join me, lovely wife."

Arya pulled her boots onto her feet. "I think I'd rather bathe in a muddy river again."

\------  
Arya knocked on the door of Gendry's quarters. She hoped he would be there. She hoped he would see her. Days had passed since the wedding, but still, he avoided her. Arya knew he was avoiding her. 

To her relief and pain, Gendry opened the door. He looked so handsome that Arya felt both desire and sorrow settle in her chest. Gendry looked as though he felt something akin to what she felt.   
"Arya, what are you doing here? It's rather early, isn't it?"

Arya looked around the corridor before letting herself into his quarters. Her response was in a whisper. "Shut the door, I have to speak to you. Alone."

Gendry did as he was bid. When he turned around to face Arya, she jumped up to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. Her lips her on his. Arya felt a hot, soothing pleasure surge throughout her whole body as he reciprocated her desire by holding tight onto her and leaning into the kiss. There they stood in a seemingly endless kiss until Arya felt herself pressed against a wall. To her dismay, Gendry broke the kiss, but he kept his forehead leaned into her own. 

His voice was hoarse when he whispered,"I missed you. Fuck, I missed you. So bloody much."

Arya bit her lip. "Then why have you been ignoring me?"

At that, Gendry settled Arya back down onto her feet. "It's not been easy for me."

"I can say the same, Gendry," Arya pleaded. 

Gendry's face was settled into a deep frown. "I thought it might be easier this way. If I didn't see you, it might not hurt so much to see you married to another man."

Arya felt her stomach clench. She moved over to Gendry to put his hands in hers. "Gendry, I have something to tell you."

His brows were furrowed. "What is it?"

"Lord Edric married me, but it was not for love or desire."

Gendry looked strangely angry. "Then he's a fool. A bigger fool than I imagined."

"Well, I'm grateful for his disinterest. That is the sole reason why we wed with the agreement that there would be no consummation."

"What do you mean, Arya?"

"Stupid, it means that Edric and I haven't fucked. Nor will we. He doesn't want me and I don't want him. I want you. He knows that, too."

Gendry squeezed Arya's hands. "Are you certain this isn't a trap?"

Arya took a heavy breath. "I can't tell you why because I made a promise, but I know something of Edric that he would rather keep secret."

Without another word, Gendry leaned in to kiss Arya once more. Arya pushed for more, but Gendry pulled away with a pained look on his face. 

"Arya, I would love to kiss you all morning, but I have to meet someone. I promised to be by the stables near the break of day."  
Arya was confused. "Who are you meeting this early?"

Gendry smiled a bit sheepishly. "Ser Davos Seaworth. The king's Hand. He told me that he'd take me around the Stormlands for the day before we take off to King's Land tomorrow. Apparently I should see my father's lands properly. Normally, I wouldn't give a damn about what King Robert---"

Arya silenced Gendry by brining up his hand to her lips. She kissed it gently. "Go on. I'll see you soon enough. I only wish I could see these places with you. But, unfortunately, I must attend to the ladies as my duty."  
\----

Arya discovered one surprise of becoming Lady Baratheon arose in how she was treated by the other ladies. As Arya sat in the lady's solar with the other ladies of the castle, Arya was suddenly considered treasured family by Lady Selyse. Even Arya's lady mother refrained from her usual criticism since, after all, Arya had done her duty. Family. Duty. Honor. As far as her mother was concerned, all of Arya's rough edges were redeemed by the new honor she earned in performing the duty assigned by family. 

Princess Shireen was harder to read. Initially, Arya sensed an awkward coolness in the wedding's aftermath that seemed to fade as the days wore on. Now, she smiled at Arya as a lady servant poured hot tea into each of the women's tea cups. 

Arya peered into her cup. Inside there was a small flower that seemed to bloom as it reacted to the hot green colored tea. 

The other ladies all gasp at the sight. Even Queen Selyse seemed astounded. "Princess, where did you get this strange tea from?"

Shireen smiled. "Lady Melisandre acquired it for my last name day."

Arya turned to see the Red Woman staring at the cup. She looked up at the group of women around her. "Do not drink the tea. This is not for drinking. In this cup, there is the will of R’hllor’s vision. Such is known in the temples of Asshai. These dry flowers only bloom by the will of heat. Therefore, they are R'hllor's instruments."

One of the Baratheon ladies then gasped. "My flower is tearing up! And the leaves are creating some sort of image. Is this magic?"

Melisandre narrowed her eyes. "Only R'hllor's majesty. When the leaves break a part, they form a vision of our futures. What you see is what the lord of light will bestow upon you."

Arya considered this as she observed the leaves in her cup break up. Her eyes widened when they formed a clear image. 

"Arya, what you see in yours?” Lady Catelyn asked.

Arya took another good look before she answered. "I see Needle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope this fic was enjoyable to read. It's been a while since I last updated this fic so I kind of needed a short bridge between the last chapter and what's to come. Please let me know any thoughts! Feedback is enormously appreciated.


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